


Americana

by riversthecalifornicana



Series: The Smash Series [2]
Category: Doki Doki Literature Club! (Visual Novel)
Genre: A - Freeform, Baka, F, F/F, F/M, G, H - Freeform, I, Ignition - Freeform, I’m gonna more tags than fuckin Shitposts, J - Freeform, L - Freeform, N - Freeform, O, P - Freeform, Q - Freeform, R, Splinter - Freeform, T, WÑX, americana (i ripped both titles off this album), b - Freeform, baja california mexico, beat you, c - Freeform, conspiracy of one, d - Freeform, days go by, e - Freeform, i ripped this off my username, i said you don’t wanna fuck with shady cus shady will fucking kill you, ixnay on the hombre, i’m just gonna name the offspring chronology by album, k - Freeform, lots of references to southern californian and mexican culture, m - Freeform, rise and fall rage and grace, rosarito, s, smash (like my first story but better), the crap sequel, the offspring - Freeform, the offspring references, u - Freeform, v - Freeform, was originally going to be called greatest-hits, well the eyerape police are coming for me so bye, y - Freeform, yeet.ctd, z - Freeform
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2018-11-19
Updated: 2019-03-16
Packaged: 2019-08-25 21:03:05
Rating: Mature
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 7
Words: 5,517
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/16668247
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/riversthecalifornicana/pseuds/riversthecalifornicana
Summary: So, this is the *legit* sequel to our *smash* story we called...Smash.So, let’s rip the title of another Offspring album and make another story. Rivers left the squad when he was 15. These peeps shouldn’t be on our asses. And...And then... oh shit, we just got invited to a party. Well, just read it, I’m sure you’ll enjoy it.Anyways, come join us!~still sayori and rivers:P





	1. Americana

Well, I just got chased out with a fucking knife.   
I hide in the car. The damn Asian Crips are after me. I was surfing when they were gangbanging on this spot.  
They tried to recruit me, but I was like, “Fuck that!”  
So they chased me for HALF A FUCKING KILOMETER with a kitchen knife. One of those big, scary ones too.

So, you don’t know me. No shit, Sherlock, I didn’t introduce myself yet. You might remember me from my last book or two, but if you don’t, then I’m the menace of this fandom, the burrito-eating, butterfly knife-carrying, Sayori-dating, Rosarito-hailing Rivers! My birthday was a few days ago. It was so cool. We all went to Mexico and got drunk as shit. We probably shouldn’t have brought Yuri though.   
Definitely shouldn’t.  
Anyways, you’re probably wondering what the hell all these names I’m throwing around mean. Okay, so I’m in the Literature Club of Southlake High, the worst high school in Southern California except for this one high school in San Diego. The members are pretty much my only friends.  
I drive to school and I sneak past the office and get to the club room. I see all my friends.  
There’s Sayori, my girlfriend and childhood friend since I was seven and moved here, she’s totally funny and happy and everything. There’s Evan, my other best friend who I met when I was ten, and he loves comics (weeb alert) and is dating Natsuki (I wonder why). Then we got Conrado, who’s into memes and memes and more memes. He can’t even read English books, the only way he knows how to read English is memes. And he’s dating Yuri, in what I think is the worst pairing since me and school (outside of the club, I hate school). Imagine that, a quiet, deep, and very proper girl who’s into books and a super loud, shallow (sorry, but he don’t like me because I’m Mexican), and very... uh, spontaneous dude who only looks at memes.. and.. other stuff, if you catch my drift. But this is not about Conrado and what he does when we’re not looking. Something is very off with Yuri, and I don’t know what. She’s been missing a lot of club meetings, talking a lot more than she does, and generally acting suspicious.  
But it doesn’t matter. We all share poems, and I won’t bore you with all the poems, just mine, Sayori’s, and Conrado.

Here’s mine I wrote yesterday.

Triggerfish

Bubble, bubble, bubble.  
Keep blowing and never run out.  
Keep swimming fast, never slow down,   
Keep eating, never die out.

And whatever you do, don’t fade away.  
Or do, it’s up to you.

I shared it with Sayori.  
“Wow... this is nice, Rivers! Where’d you get the idea?” Sayori said.  
“Well, I was surfing a few days ago and I saw a really pretty fish. Wasn’t a triggerfish, though.”  
I’ve always had a weird dreams of seeing a triggerfish, specifically a reef triggerfish, in California. They all live in Hawaii, where they’re the state fish, but supposably the last one to ever be seen here was in San Francisco in 1986.   
Anyways, enough about my fishy dreams, on to Sayori’s poem.

Falling For You

Swim.  
The only thought that keeps me sane.   
I can’t anymore, though. The whirlpool is about to throw me under.  
In my final moments, I remember the good times.  
The happy moments.  
Now I’m fucked.  
But before I go under, I feel nothing at all,  
And he, on the dock, pulled me up.

I thought this poem was cool, and then I read Conrado’s poem.

 

YEET BIATCH

 

When Yuri saw this, she was trying to slap the shit out of him. I just sat there laughing.  
“Aw, Yandere Yuri!”  
She immediately was going to slap me.  
So I backed up.  
Yep, a normal day at the club.


	2. There There

I showed Conrado the first chapter of my book. He got pissed as shit. I think he wanted to slap me too. So after Yuri tried slapping me and I showed Conrado the first chapter of my book. He went batshit crazy.  
“Fuck you, homie! I know more shit than you, faggot!” he yelled to me.  
I just laughed.  
“Oh shit, you’re serious? Let me laugh harder!” I respond. I laugh for about thirty seconds. Then I calm down.  
“Okay, then, let’s fight.” I told him. I dragged his ass out to the hallway and socked that fucker in his face. I hated it, since he was my friend, but you never let someone disrespect you like that. He was pretty strong, and I’m pretty sure he gave me a black eye. But in the end, I decked his ass. Then I dragged him out to the dumpster. It was hard to do that though, since he was shouting.

 

“Quit shouting or I’ll fucking knock your ass out!” I whispered. It didn’t help.  
So I just covered his mouth and fucking ran. He bit my hand, and it starting bleeding.

 

“Shit, I’m gonna get AIDS from this asshole.” I said to myself.  
Eventually, after about three dozen close calls, I make it to the dumpster. It’s hard, since he’s heavy as hell, but I lift him up, and he’s still screaming.  
“Look, bitch, we’re in the back. It’s no use.” I tell him, “Here, I’ll shout with you!”  
“AHH, SOMEBODY HELP!” we scream as loud as we can.  
“Now shut the fuck up and take your beating like a man.” I shout at him.  
I throw him down and stomp him.  
It starts raining.  
But when I let go for a bit, he gets up.  
“Holy shit!” I yell.  
And I get punched in the face against a wall.  
I get socked in the face a few times.  
“How do you like that, cabron?” he yells.   
It hurts like hell, but I manage to keep going.  
Until of course, I get knocked to the ground.  
Then I get stomped and I feel too weak to stand up.  
“Bro,” he tells me, “this is bullshit. Fighting over a fucking book. I was joking, it was fucking funny.”  
I wasn’t about to forgive him, though. My mind went in a battle. I hear the voices.  
“Fuck him up! Yeet him and then throw his ass in the freeway!”  
But my other side came in,  
“Nah, fuck that! He’s trying to forgive you, dude! Plus, he has ties with the Asian Crips.”  
“Nah, kill him. Stop acting like a little bitch!” my evil side tells me.  
“What would Sayori think if you hurt a Literature Club member, especially that bad? Stop being so retarded.”  
In the end, I was like, “Fine, dude. I understand.” And then he walked back in. I left and headed towards the Taco Bell. 

Fun fact, my nickname “El Scorcho” comes from a packet of Del Taco hot sauce, but, while they’re both shit excuses for Mexican food, I like Taco Bell. A lot. More than Del Taco. So I go there and I notice my favorite food, the $5 Box, wasn’t there.  
“Hey, what happened to the $5 Box?” I ask.  
“Oh, we got rid of it. Want the $5 Chalupa box? It has everything the old box has, just a chalupa instead of a Cheesy Gordita Crunch.”  
I just ordered that because it’s the same amount of food for the same price. And the lady was super nice and gave me a free Cheesy Gordita Crunch too! So as I was eating. I got a text message from Sayori.

(sayitaintso) where are you??

I texted back.  
(lakes_and_rivers) at the taco bell.

(sayitaintso) i thought you were el scorcho tho lol

(lakes_and_rivers) guess not. catch you later<3

So I just ate the food and drank the Baja Blast (I’m from Baja and I can tell you it tastes nothing like it). And, after that, me and Sayori are gonna meet at my house, so I head over there.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> look bro, i was just joking, be reasonable about this  
> ~el scorcho:P


	3. Do You Wanna Get High?

The whole Literature Club is coming over to my house for a party, which usually is nothing more than Fortnite and books. They always pick my house because I always have it to myself.   
I went home and prepared everything. I ordered pizza from the Little Caesars in Garden Grove. Sayori was already over and destroying my stats on Fortnite.  
The delivery dude was a little bitch. I was searching for the last change to pay for the food and he was rolling his eyes. I was being nice and he was still being an ass.  
“What the fuck, bro? I said sorry!” I said.  
“Ugh, just hurry up!” the dude responded. I handed him his money and he counted it.  
“Where the hell is the tip?!” he yelled.  
“Bro, I’m not giving you a fucking tip. You treated me like shit! Take your money and go.”  
“Nah, fuck you. Give me the tip, bitch!”  
“What did you say, maiete?”  
“I said, “fuck you”, fucking dumbass. Why’d you even come to the country in the first place?”

Oh hell no. This guy even dares to make fun of me coming from Mexico? I grab the money I gave him.   
My conscience comes in.  
“Come on, fool! Este hombre debe morir!”  
My good side retorts, “Just take your money and the pizza and leave! Don’t make any scenes.”  
“Fuck that, just knock this fool’s ass out. You’re friends with the guy who owns the Little Caesars. He’ll understand you.”  
“Actually... you’re right.” my good side says.  
I socked this guy in the chin, just like I did with Conrado. Sayori jumps in at some point.  
She’s the perfect girlfriend: cute, smart, and violent.   
“Alright, fucker. Here’s your pizza. Just leave me alone!”  
I didn’t. We kept punching him. His nose eventually started bleeding and he passed out.  
I threw him in his car and drove it to the Wal-mart.  
Then I walked back home.

By then, everyone was there and waiting for me to open the door.  
“Where were you? We’ve been waiting for ten minutes!” Evan asked.  
“Oh, the pizza guy was a little bitch. Let’s party.”  
I let everyone inside and Sayori immediately sat back on the purple beanbag.  
She loves that purple beanbag. She turns on the PlayStation and sets up Fortnite again.  
“Let’s play!” she tells me.  
So she kicks my ass in Fortnite and Natsuki almost kicks my ass for realsies.  
I only got one slice of pizza and everyone else had the rest.   
So, the squad plays Fortnite until 10, and then I look around the room.   
Is this a high school party in Orange County or what I think drug parties in Southeast-side Long Beach looks like?  
I see Yuri and Conrado with a small pile of white stuff I later found out was a mix of Chilean cocaine (the cheapest and most dangerous) and Adderall. I didn’t even say anything, I couldn’t complain, I was a drug addict once, too. Not cocaine, but antipsychotics. I already knew Yuri had done blow before, and it seemed like they were really in love as they were doing it.  
Drugs. The closest those two will ever come to true love for each other.  
I eventually meet back with Sayori at the couch after hauling literally my entire refrigerator’s worth of snacks and we eat it as we watch that show, Narcos: Mexico, I think it was called. We cuddled for a bit, until Natsuki called us out.  
“Get a fucking room, you two!”  
So we did. My room is cool, I have my laptop in there so we can watch Netflix. I stole it from a lost-and-found bin, then wiped the hard drive 15 times because I had just seen the movie Unfriended: Dark Web, and I wasn’t trying to die (I tried to die two days before that). I closed and locked the door because I wasn’t trying to have anyone catch us.  
We cuddled together on the bed for a bit until Sayori pops the question in her cute high-pitched voice.  
“Wanna sniff glue?” she asked.  
I wasn’t about to say yes, but what could go wrong with sniffing glue with your cute half-Filipino girlfriend?  
I have Elmer’s glue in my drawer, but she brought something stronger.  
“Model glue? What the fuck?” I said.  
Okay, so Sayori is no stranger to drugs. No one in the Club except Evan is, and I’m sure being around Natsuki isn’t helping. I guess she would do a lot of helium in second grade, and she’s been smoking weed on and off since 8th grade. I, on the other hand, had my very first hit of weed in fifth grade and first sniffed Elmer’s glue (I’m very poor) in ninth grade. I don’t have any paper bags, though, but she hooked everything up.   
I poured the glue in my bag and huffed that shit.  
My mind just started spinning and I fell back onto the bed.  
“Holy shit, it happened that fast?” Sayori jokingly asked.  
We watched Netflix, on and off frying our brains through the toluene, which Sayori explained is what makes you get high.  
We cuddled on the bed, watching TV and sniffing glue until we couldn’t anymore.  
Then we made out and, um... one thing led to another.  
I think the best way to explain it is, I..uh.. fucked her, in the butt... this is not shit I enjoy talking about. But right before I’m done, when she’s moaning so loud you can’t hear the laptop (and before you say we’re bad and sinful, we were high, okay?), Natsuki knocks on the door.  
“Stop fucking, the cops are here for you!”  
I get dressed as fast as I can and Sayori hides the glue and locks herself in the bathroom.

 

When I’m dressed and I spray half a can of the nastiest smelling AXE ever (to cover up the smell of glue), I walk to the police door.  
Sayori comes out thirty seconds later.

“Are you two Rivers Sanchez and Sayori Delarosa?” the cop asks.  
“Yes.” we both say in unison.

The next thing I remember is us in handcuffs.  
“You’re both under arrest for attempted murder and theft.”

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> oof, they should teach you something: never do drugs
> 
> ~evan


	4. Can’t Knock the Hustle

Sayori was crying the entire ride to the police station. I held her and told her everything would be okay, we didn’t kill somebody. But it still sucked. We were thrown into holding cells, and she was in the cell next to me. I could see her and touch her, but I couldn’t be with her, and that sucked. I remember hearing something along the lines of they can only hold us for twenty-four hours until they either take our asses to court or let us go.  
They chose the first one.  
After four hours passed, the cop talked to us.  
“Alright, so they dropped the murder charge.”  
“Oh, thank God.” Sayori said.  
“But it’s still assault and theft, which at best is 3 years probation.”  
“When are we going to court?” I asked.  
“Today. Around 8:00 a.m.”  
So we waited another 2 hours then they took us to the courthouse.

 

That ride was just as painful to Sayori as last night, because she was the good girl, she didn’t want to be a criminal.  
I kept my mouth shut, but doing drugs and sniffing glue takes away from the ‘good girl’ aspect.  
It was about ten minutes to the courthouse in Long Beach.

We went in, and I felt that the court was immediately against me.  
I looked at the jury. All white. Not a single Mexican who understands me.   
We sat down, and the cheap ass lawyer told us, “Alright, I’m not pleading insanity, but I want to show them both of your files from the mental hospital so they’ll be more lenient.”  
So they spent three hours arguing about basically whether our mental issues may have motivated what happened.  
“You see, my fellow citizens, that it is a known fact that depressed children are more likely to commit violent crimes. Especially when you add panic disorder and hypomania.”  
I sat there and we only talked when we were called up. I refused to lie. We beat him up because he was saying very racist things to us. I accepted I shouldn’t have done that. But I did.  
I basically told them what they wanted to hear.

Eventually, they gave us an hour’s recess.  
Sayori was extremely hungry, and she asked the cop, “Hey, can we eat?”  
And she was extremely salty, because she said, “No. Stop asking me shit.”  
That made Sayori cry. I immediately wanted to send that cop home in a wheelchair, but not here and not now.  
I held her more and I calmed her down. We’re gonna be okay. We’ll get to go home and I’ll buy her whatever food she wants.  
Eventually, they came back.

 

“We sentence you...”  
I stood there in hopeful thought as I heard what they dished out to us.  
“Two months at the Santa Carla Mental Institution!”

I cheered right as the gavel hit. They sent us to the car for another ride to Santa Carla.  
“I’ve escaped from Santa Carla so many times, it’s actually fun.” I whispered to Sayori, “but just wait a week or two.”

So we went in, back to my second home.


	5. Center Perks/Institutionalized

Santa Carla Mental Hospital, for all intents and purposes, is the only mental hospital in Orange County. Basically, what you do here is you change into this blue shirt and gray pants, and then you have to sit at this ‘therapy’ appointment for an hour, and it fucking sucks because it’s literally this old white guy making you feel bad for a literal hour.

Actually, there’s this one therapist, I think he’s related to my homeboy Lee? He moved back to Texas, after he was like, “Fuck California! Fuck a California quail! Fuck a blowfish, fuck a duck, fuck anything that has to do with California!”  
Anyways, this one therapist is really cool! I think he’s the only other guy besides me this far from Mexico that appreciates Carlos Santana. If you don’t know who Carlos Santana is, I give up on you. I can’t do this anymore with you.  
Anyhow, it’s against the rules to have a phone there, but I snuck one in anyway (I’m a master at that). They’ve literally seen me using my phone and they don’t take it away.  
So I do all this shit and then I sleep. Sayori’s on the other side of the building, so at least I’ll see her at lunch.  
I kind of like this place, and not because I’ve been in and out of it nine times. They have a TV where you can watch stuff. And also sometimes they’ll let you go out for walks outside the hospital. Like in the city of Garden Grove.

I wanted to wait to escape so I don’t raise any suspicion, but Sayori’s only been here once. She doesn’t like it.  
So she wants to leave tonight.  
At lunch we sit in the corner and talk about how this is gonna happen.  
“Just ask if we can go for a walk to the Taco Bell.” Sayori said, “then we just catch an Uber to Seal Beach.”  
I don’t like that method because they would know 100% it was us.  
“So, what, you got better Center Perks hacks?”  
They have a guitar for all of us to use and a tiny amp, so I picked it up and hooked it up and stood in front of everybody. Sayori knows the plan.  
I played “The Kids Aren’t Alright” by none other than the people who we rip off so hard, The Offspring!

That song caused, ahem, a small riot.  
Mentally disabled people are among the best at concerts. I play the really depressing but loud punk rock song, which makes all of them go crazy. 

And Sayori did the part in the background.  
I dropped the mic, which made a loud screechy sound. Sayori acts.

By smashing an air conditioner through a window.  
“I learned this in a Green Day music video.” she said.  
But no time to waste! I grab my phone and charger and jump out. Sayori does too. We then hop the chain-link fence and run to the Jack-In-The-Box.  
We cheer and eat to celebrate.  
But then we realized.  
“We need a ride home.”

 

Easy, so we just take a cab back to our pad.  
We’ve only been gone for a day, so I’m not too worried about my sister.  
She’s playing Fortnite when I see her.  
“Where were you guys?” she asked.  
“You don’t wanna know.”


	6. Speed Baller, Part One

I need to be more normal.  
Sayori had a bad day last night, since her parents kicked her out of her house.  
I went next door and I saw her crying on her doorstep.  
“My parents threw me out.. they say I’m too mentally disabled to be here.” she sobbed.  
She doesn’t have that much shit, and she keeps most of it at my pad anyway.  
“Hey... this might sound weird, but if you want, you could.. ya know, um... live with me..” I offered, quietly.  
She looked at me, then down.  
“I’d like that..” she whispered.

We spent until 1 in the morning moving her stuff to my place. We could sleep together in my room, because my bed is really big. I saved up for five months for that bed.  
Clem’s room actually used to be the play room, since it was an empty room no one used. I considered giving her my parents’ room, but out of respect for them, I didn’t touch anything in their room. However, on Dia de Los Muertos, we set up a little ofrenda for them and other people in my family that died. I miss them, and it’s nice to remember them.  
Anyways, Sayori sets up her stuff. She’s too kind, as I keep telling her she can do whatevers, I personally am not attached at all with my room, but she still puts most of her stuff in the closet. Then we go to sleep on my fancy queen-size bed.  
I wake up in the middle of the night to someone wrapping their hands around my chest, but then I realize it’s just Sayori.  
“Warm.”

I honestly have no plans, ambitions, or ideas for my future. Once upon a time I used to want to go to University of Alaska, Anchorage when I became 18.  
Well, I’m 18 now and my burning sun has never rised.  
The sunlight beams go directly in my eyes as soon as the sun wakes up. Normally, I like to spread out when I wake up, and stick my hands out. I’m so small and the bed’s so large I could lay in the middle, stick my hands directly out, and still not be able to touch the sides.  
Well, I did that. But as soon as I did, I hear a stifled, startled sound.  
“Uwaa~... oww..”  
I look and realize I just slapped Sayori directly in the face.  
“Oh shit, I’m so sorry!” I whisper as I turn around.  
She just smiles and goes back to sleep.

I go downstairs and check on my phone. Sleep’s really important, and I’m trying not to fuck with my sleep because I can’t resist my cheap-ass iPhone 6.  
I notice I got a text from my homeboi Luciano. He’s trying to come over and chill.  
Personally, I miss him. We were really tight back when we were in the squad. I hit him back and tell him he can come over if he wants, and I put down the phone.  
Sayori comes downstairs, with jacked-up hair and weird sweatpants that’s her excuse for pajamas. Then I realize,  
“Those are my sweatpants!”  
“Aw, come on?” Sayori asks in a cute voice, “Please, with a cherry on top? They’re really comfy!”  
She kisses me then goes to her second love, food. But she’s not eating any of it.  
“Wait..” I ask, “are you...”  
“Yep, I’m making breakfast.”  
She cannot cook food for shit. We usually have the arrangement that I can cook the food and she can eat it, because one of the many things my mom taught me was good cooking. One time Sayori set out to make pancakes and nearly burned the house down, so we have safety reasons.   
And she also likes to make a big fuss about how she’s never gonna be a normie housewife and shit.  
But I decide to have faith in her and trust her cooking. I go back to my room and play some Grand Theft Auto on my PlayStation, which is by far the most expensive thing I own. Eventually, I hear her footsteps coning towards me. I’m not sure if her past relationships made her insecure or something, but once she gets to my door, she knocks and asks, “Are you beating your meat in there? I’ll be really sad if you are.”

Now, I’ve actually never done that. I’m not desperate, okay?  
She opens the door and sighs a sigh of relief at the sight of seeing me playing a videogame.  
“Breakfast is ready!”  
I hope she made something simple, like toast or cereal.

Walking into the kitchen was a whole other story.  
There’s two plates of rice with carne asada and scrambled eggs on top.  
“It’s a Filipino dish my grandfather showed me,” she explained, “it’s called tapsilog.”  
It tasted so good, I wanted more, but we ran out of egg. I was astounded that she could make anything, but I guess she knows how to make Filipino food. 

Then we realized we forgot to make another one for Clem.  
“Dammit, I’m being hella irresponsible!” I mumbled.  
Sayori didn’t finish all of her food, and she just gave the rest to her. She ate it happily then went back to Fortnite.

I went and made a mental list of all the things I have to do today.  
Normally, the peeps at the hospital search for escapees for a week. So I can’t really be seen. Clem wants to go over to Lee’s house and play with Lee’s little brother, so I gotta go do that. I’m trying to kick it with Luciano.

My thoughts are interrupted when I hear a knock on the door.  
I walk over and open it.  
Luciano, who I haven’t seen in three years, is on the other side.  
“Hey, whats up, cuz!” he greets in his extremely ghetto Mexican accent. I let him in and we talk for a bit. Life, the Lakers, the conditions in Mexico with the goddamn borderwall.

“Hey, you remember Jadrín, right?” he asks.  
“He ran with the squad, right?” I responded.   
“Well, we gotta get back.”

Those words scare the shit out of me.  
You’re probably asking why, so here’s a little backstory:

After my mom died, I had nobody. Nobody was able to trace my mom to me, so nobody took care of me. I had no money, and I was in seventh grade.  
I couldn’t exactly get a job, becuase I was too young. I couldn’t exactly move to Mexico, becuase minors can’t go to Mexico without a parent.  
My friend Martinez knew some people, and I ended up joining the Mexican Mafia a few days later.  
Not gonna lie, the pay was good. I sold weed in Santa Ana, the capital of Orange County. I could make 13,000 pesos a night on good nights (they always paid us in pesos.). After exchanging them, I got a clean 4,500.  
But when I was fifteen, Sayori confessed that she loved me. It took a few weeks, but we ended up going out and we started our little family. Sayori became a mother to Clem, and I decided the best thing to do was to leave the Mafia.  
Well, I never truly left.  
I just said I was taking a break, then I just hoped they forgot.  
It worked for 2 years. Natsuki and I teamed up and sold weed in different areas of the county. 

But if I ever tried to get out, they’d kill me.  
And now I wish I just went to Lee’s house.

And now I have to go back if I wanna live.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Finally, with nothing else on my back, I can keep doing Americana.


	7. Speed Baller, Part Two

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Get ready for some good old fashioned Exit Music-style going to shit.

I stammered. I left the squad to live a happier life. I want to say no, but Luciano literally drags me out of the house and into his car.   
“Are we off to Riverside?” I ask.  
“Nope. We’re checking the Corona house.”

Basically, how the Mexican Mafia worked is there were two houses in Los Angeles, the Riverside one and the Corona one. Usually, people just went to one, but I guess we were the lucky ones to go to both.   
Well, I guess it’s not so lucky.  
The Corona house was actually very fancy, it had ten rooms and had a big pool in the back. Now it’s more rundown, with the pillars cracked and spray paint long tagged on the walls. We get out and walk in. Memories of being here, talking to the boss, and hanging out over here surged my memories. The inside was relatively nice. I walked around and said hello to the people there.   
“Hey, maiete,” Luciano told me, “he wants to talk to you.”

By he, he meant the boss, Juan Emitil Jadrín. He was not the most kind-hearted person, and one of his squad members deserting for three years won’t be helping.   
His room was the most fanciest out of the house, with a velvet cushioning on the door and silk drapings around the perimeter. Luciano knocks on the door.

“Send him in,” I hear from inside.  
I walk into the room and Luciano shuts the door behind me.   
“Welcome, Rivera. We missed you. Pan dulce?” he asks as he hands me a tray of pan dulce. He knows it’s my favorite thing to eat.  
Except Sayori’s tapsilog now, I thought.

I take one and sit down. Across the desk, he gives me a sort of friendly but menacing look.  
“So, how’s life? I haven’t seen you in three years?” Jadrín asks.  
I stay honest, and tell him about my life, my family, my friends. I went to school.  
“Oh nice. It’s great to see you have a family now.” he responds, “but La Familia over here needs you as well!” he says in a laughing tone of voice.  
He calms down after a bit.  
“It’s time to be serious, Rivera. The Narcocorridos in the southwest of the town are declaring war on us. They’ve been convincing many of our members to desert. Personally, I was scared you’d join them. But it’s a good thing you know what would happen if you did, right?”  
I know. They’d kill me and my family and a few of my friends.  
“I know what you’re thinking, Rivers. We’re not gonna kill you, but you’re a native of Baja California, right?”  
“Yeah, from Rosarito.”  
“Well, we know your past, Rivers. We can talk to the police.”  
“About what? Weed’s legal now!”  
“Oh, not weed. Your mom.”  
“What about her?” I’m starting to get angry.  
He laughs.   
“Your mom didn’t come to America legally. Your entire family never came here legally. You came here on a visa, Rivers, and your mom decided to stay. And I’ve struck a deal with the police, because you’re actually the most wanted illegal immigrant in the state of California.”  
“What do you mean ‘most wanted’?”  
“Drugs, arms trafficking, murder.” he chuckles, “How did you not get caught by now?”  
“I never fucking killed anyone!”  
“Ah, ah, ah, respetame, o que te lleva la policia hasta Tijuana. Y cuando llegas a Tijuana, te llevan a esta escuela cerca de la playa.”  
“A beach by a school? Really?”  
“You’ve heard of Sunset Bay School in the beautiful Playas de Tijuana area, right?”  
Oh, shit. Sunset Bay is the most dangerous school in Tijuana. I can’t go there.  
“And you know Sayori Delarosa, right?”   
I refrained from telling him she’s my girlfriend.   
“She’s a friend.”  
“She’s been on our watch too. She looks kinda Mexican, don’t you think? You could be siblings!”   
We don’t. She clearly looks Asian.  
“Well, since you guys are ‘friends’, you wouldn’t mind going together down there , right?”  
No. I’d never do that to her.  
“This is all speculation, Rivera. Just do what I tell you and you’ll be fine. Here, take this and open it when you leave.”  
I take it and walk away.  
I run to the bathroom and lock myself in there. I open the note.  
“To Rivera Sanchez,  
A border is a hard thing to cross, but seeing as you did it without being caught, you’ll help us deliver a few cartons of dust in Los Mochis to the Riverside house, won’t you? Just across, you can see the place you’re headed if you don’t complete it.  
We leave April 19.

P.S. Bring Sayori too! We both know you two are going out, so let’s not lie to each other.

Emitil Jadrin”

 

And my life is fucked.


End file.
